So how are we all enjoying the World Cup? In fairness it has picked up since the knockout rounds, but so far,for me its been pretty meh! Although in the interest of giving props when due, I have to say I was quite impressed watching Brazil take on Cote d’Ivoire the other night. Brazil seem to have mixed their traditional flair and attacking football with a solid defence which is a little different for the boys from the Copacabana.
Being something of expert myself, I was fully expecting the lads in the studio to agree with my analysis at half time. So while I sat there waiting to hear Didi Hamman and Eamon Dunphy confirm my incite into the beautiful game, I found myself being distracted by what has become something of a familiar irritant this last week or two.
Vevuzalas. The annoying plastic horns that have been blaring a slightly off key B flat droning out of our televisions screens all the way from South Africa. I mean its bad enough when its going on during the game…but for the half time studio discussion? I thought that is a bit much.
Of course being the clever person that I am, I eventually realised that I was mistaken. The sound wasn’t coming from my TV this time. It was closer.
I looked around to see if I could locate the source of the noise. Quick scan of the room. Eyes searching. There, in the skylight on my roof, the buzzing cause of my vexation. It wasn’t the horns of Bafana Bafana sounding like a trapped bumble bee this time. No, this time, it was an actual trapped Bumble Bee.
A little black and yellow fuzzy nugget of noisy nuisance. Flying into the window. Over and over he (I’m assuming it’s a he because of his failure to ask for directions) would draw back and attempt to make his escape through the window. Wings flapping, buzz buzzing he burst forward expecting to feel the wind coarse through his hair.
Again and again he was repelled with a thunk. His little bee head bouncing of the pane of glass. I watched this with more amusement than a man of thirty plus years should get from an insect. Thirty seconds, a minute, a minute and a half passed and I was still smiling at his futile attempts at escape.
By the time two minutes rolled around, my mirth began to ease. I watched him as he continued on his mission and I felt a twinge of guilt and then sadness then finally recognition. To paraphrase Dr F.J. Lewis from History Today, ‘That’s me that is!’
I saw something in that pesky bee that rang true to my heart. As he continued to pummel his head against the glass wall, I thought about how I constantly do the same stupid things over and over again. Things that I understand aren’t in my best interest but yet time and again I go back to the well.
Be it poor choice of female companion, or behaving in a manner detrimental to a relationship. Over consumption of alcohol. Making compulsive decisions that are not conducive to a happy and healthy lifestyle. Over the years, repeatedly, I have gone back to that well of self sabotage.
With the help of psycho analysis I have learned to recognise when I am heading down these roads. It doesn’t always stop me going down them. Most of the times I halt my negative behaviour, but sometimes, sometimes I allow myself to go further than normal because I convince myself that I know what I’m doing. This is not true. I’m like that guy in the
big river in Egypt.
Living this way has in the past made me incredibly unhappy. I don’t want to have this kind of existence.
I recently watched the movie
Greenberg. It stars Ben Stiller as a miserable, disaffected , sad lonely guy.
When I was in my twenties I loved movies about these kind of characters. They were cool and indie. I related to them. Usually because they were in their twenties. This character, Greenberg, I fucking detested.
In this movie Ben Stiller was in his 40’s. He was angry and confused because his life didn’t turn out the way he expected. I can appreciate that. However what I can’t appreciate is that the self serving whiney asshole did nothing to change it. He was miserable and he excused himself for being a dick because he was unhappy. Sadly this is something I’ve probably been guilty off in the past.
In general the movie made me think ‘I can’t be doing this crap when I’m in my forties.’ I can’t keep messing around and expect people to understand. I need to make things different. I need to keep pushing with the changes I have made in my life.
So, why am I telling you about it, you ask? Good question my friends. I’m going to need help. As I said a lot of the time I recognise when I’m doing stupid things. Sometimes I recognise and ignore it. What I need from you, if you see me making one of my poor life choices I need you to highlight it to me. I need you to be vocalise the annoying little voice that’s going on in my head.
Of course there is no point in you just saying to me ‘Don‘t do that John‘. I didn’t listen to my mother enough when she said it and I probably won’t listen to you . In all likelihood just think you are a killjoy and I’m in control, I’ll be fine. And that is blatantly not the case.
What is needed in a situation like this, as any submissive sex slave worth their salt will tell you, is a
safety word. A single word which will spark my brain into action and make me realise that I’m doing something stupid again.
A good safety word should be something that is strong and unusual enough to not come up in regular everyday conversation. I’m thinking, in honour of my inspirational friend of going with bumblebee. But if anyone has a better suggestion I’m always open to a good safety word.
Oh and in case you’re are wondering about the bee. Eventually he realised he was banging his head needlessly against the window. He stopped, changed direction and flew out the door. You’re all smart people. I don’t need to explain that metaphor to you, now do I?
